


The Navigator

by artistica18



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF John, Cruise Ships, Grumpy Sherlock, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sherlock is a Brat, Sherlock's middle name is James
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artistica18/pseuds/artistica18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>To my lovely Kenzie.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Navigator

**Author's Note:**

> To my lovely Kenzie.

Sherlock had been ecstatic. He'd gotten case after case lately, all of them interesting, and as soon as one finished, another began. He hadn't slept in weeks, so it wasn't all too surprising when he suddenly collapsed in the middle of a chase. The criminal got away. John rushed to his side.   
"Sherlock!" He picked him up and set him on his feet. John called Lestrade while Sherlock leaned heavily against him. "Greg? He got away. No, something's wrong with Sherlock. He collapsed. I'm taking him home. Ok. See you tomorrow." He hung up and hailed a taxi.   
Back at Baker Street, John put Sherlock in bed, then sat and waited for him to wake up. Sherlock looked up groggily. "Wh-John? What happened?" He shook his head and groaned. "My head..."   
John stared at him, fury raging in his eyes. "Sherlock." He said calmly. "When was the last time you slept?" He narrowed his eyes dangerously.  
Sherlock seemed slightly taken aback. "I don't sleep when I have a case, John-"   
"YOU HAVEN'T SLEPT IN 2 WEEKS!" John exclaimed, making Sherlock flinch. "Sherlock, people have died from less than that! Do you have any idea the danger you put yourself in last night?"   
Sherlock scowled. "It wasn't any more than I usually-"   
"Yes, it was! You were exhausted, Sherlock. Don't deny it."   
Sherlock frowned at him. "Well, what are you going to do about it then? You can't confine me to my room."  
John shook his head. "No, I can't." He glared. "But that doesn't mean I don't have a plan. You and I are taking a holiday. DON'T-" he said when Sherlock opened his mouth to protest, "argue with me, Sherlock. I'm not in the mood."   
Sherlock huffed and turned away. John walked over and shoved him down onto the bed. "Go to sleep. Or at least rest." He said, his voice softer now. "But I will be sitting here to make sure you don't try to leave."  
Sherlock whined. "John...."  
"No, Sherlock. Now go. To. Sleep!" John gave him one last shove before standing and going to sit in the chair. He pulled his phone out and rang Mycroft. "Hullo, Mycroft. I need your help..."

"I can't believe you went to /Mycroft/."  
"Shut up. It's for your own good."  
"How did he even get these tickets on such short notice!"  
"I don't want to know, and I'm not asking. Now shut up and let them take your picture."  
Three days after Sherlock's collapse, they were in Italy, standing in line to board the Royal Caribbean cruise ship, the Navigator of the Seas.  
Sherlock was antsy and snappish, glaring at everything that moved, but especially John. "This is idiotic!" He hissed. "A /cruise/, John? Really? You want to put /me/ on a boat for a bloody /week/?"  
John merely faced straight ahead, not even glancing at him. "Sherlock, you need to rest. If this is the only way to get you to relax, so be it. Though quite frankly, I think this'll be fun." He gave a quick smile as they took his picture, before leading Sherlock into the elevator. "Ok, so the rooms won't be ready until 3, so let's go to the pool until then."  
Sherlock stared at him. "A pool, John? What the hell are we going to do there?"  
John raised an eyebrow. "Uh, swim? That's what I'll be doing."  
Sherlock curled his lip.  
The shorter man whirled on him, grabbing his shoulders and pinning him to the wall. He leaned in close, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Listen to me closely, Sherlock James Holmes. I swear to /God/ that if you start causing trouble on this trip, if you don't do what you're supposed to and /rest/, I will lock you in a cell, underground, and leave you there with /nothing/ to stimulate your mind. I can do it too. Mycroft's on my side in this."  
Sherlock was staring, eyes huge. When John had pinned him to the wall, something... /warm/ had flooded through his system, leaving his heart racing in a mixture of fear and... And something else. He swallowed hard. "I understand..." He said, never breaking eye contact.  
At that moment, the elevator doors opened again, and a family of red-heads entered. John backed off of Sherlock with a warning glare, to which Sherlock responded with a meek nod.  
Sherlock noted the daughter of the family, a slip of a girl with skin paler than Sherlock's own and hair like flame, was watching them discretely with the tiniest of blushes. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she blushed brighter and turned back to her phone, tapping away.  
Sherlock smirked slightly, and turned away, but frowned and sighed again. His head hit the glass as it fell back. This was going to be a long week.


End file.
